Four keen observers and one clueless major
by MrsSwords
Summary: This starts off just a little before where we left off in The Gulf Between; Jack and Sam might not see it themselves yet, but that doesn't mean others don't. A strange retelling of Children of the Gods.


_**A/N: You do really need to know CotG for this, and this is not my usual POV - this is Sam and Jack from other peoples' POVs. Sometimes, it's not immediately obvious whose POV it is, but all the clues should be there. Also, when you see the name 'Charlie' here, it's referring to one Major Kawalsky. It's been a while, so go easy on me, and I**__** hope you enjoy it...**_

_**.**_

* * *

**Four keen observers and one clueless major**

"_To acquire knowledge, one must study; but to acquire wisdom, one must observe." - __Marilyn Vos Savant_

A good general knew his people. That was the bottom line. Those who thought a military base was automatically going to function like the proverbial well-oiled machine because it was made up of soldiers had the whole equation backwards. Soldiers were still people. Most importantly, people were unique: know your people, and you know the inner workings of the machine.

That is the way to run a decent command.

Not that he _knew_ his command was decent – he just _hoped_ that it was. He was also very aware of the flaw in the idea of knowing his people, since it was pretty damn tough to glean anything worthwhile from paperwork and service records. Not to mention the added complication of civilian contractors.

Which brought him to this current situation.

His gaze lingered absently on the door that Dr. Carter had walked out of not five minutes earlier, the file he'd been looking at still tight in his grip, but long since forgotten. Jack O'Neill was a lot of things: irreverent, with the capacity for insubordination. A risk taker. Apparently, he'd been so far gone prior to his last mission that his commanding officer had been agreeable to handing the man a one-way ticket off of the planet.

That was what he could deduce from paperwork and service records, at least. Which just went to show how that didn't really count for a damn thing, because despite all the things recorded in black and white, he found that he _liked_ the man. His men thought highly of him - that was something he could see as plain as day. And to have a right-hand man that instilled that kind of respect and loyalty in the teams he commanded was valuable beyond all measure. He also got the job done - _for the most part._

No, if anything, the Colonel's major failing was that he cared _too_ much; he let his humanity override military protocol. Heroic to a fault, but George could see his point of view. Admired it, really. It was a luxury a general couldn't afford.

So what in _heaven's name_ was this thing with Dr. Carter?

George exhaled a long breath of frustration, and glanced over the surface of his desk as if the answer was somewhere there to be found, eyes finally resting on the stack of personnel files sitting in his out-tray.

Except that the answer _was_ there. It had to be. There was a reason for this; a good one. He believed the Colonel when he'd said the issue was personal - that haunted look in his eyes had been too convincing to be faked.

_A good general knows his people._

Closing the folder in his hands, he discarded it unceremoniously back into his in-tray and immediately reached for the personnel files, quickly separating out the records of one Colonel Jack O'Neill, and one Dr. Samantha Carter.

He had a very strong suspicion that there was something he had missed.

.

* * *

As he watched Dr. Carter take the seat opposite the Colonel in the briefing room, he wasn't surprised at the twinge of guilt he felt at having dismissed each of them so quickly the previous day. He was unapologetic about how he'd placed his priorities; he'd looked into the eyes of that creature before it had disappeared back through the Stargate and had hardly slept a wink since. The mission came first beyond a shadow of a doubt, but this _thing_ between these two soldiers – and no, there was no argument on God's green Earth that would convince him that these two weren't _exactly_ that – should not have been overlooked; he should not have missed the history that they shared. He should have sat them down. He should have _known_.

And soldiers were still people.

So he watched as the recently reactivated Colonel stared down at the ex-officer. He watched because he was not going to make the same mistake again. If they couldn't put this behind them, if they couldn't work together -

"Late night, Doc?"

The two majors sniggered, and there was a beat, a pause, that left the air heavy enough that he imagined his heart could actually sink in it. And then a rueful look ghosted over the Colonel's features, and the reciprocating glare from Dr. Carter was almost chastising.

Oh, he most certainly had not missed that; it was just like the look Margaret used to give him. Any married man, or - he thought with sadness - once married man, would know a look like that.

He found his throat suddenly very dry, and stifled a cough. "Colonel. Doctor. Do we have a problem here?"

The denials came thick and fast, but they were sure and steady. He believed them. He also believed that there was more going on here than what readily met the eye. He would have to stick a pin in that thought for the time being; they had a room full of people waiting for this briefing to get started.

"Good. Colonel, let's begin."

The return to business was short-lived though as one of the majors diverted the briefing once more, and he found himself staring down the Colonel as he joked about shaving injuries. Only the residual guilt of this situation with the doctor, and the surprise at the injury that had _most definitely not_ been there yesterday evening, kept him from reprimanding the man. And as the Colonel continued where he'd left off, George let himself sit back in his chair and observe the to-and-fro between Jack O'Neill and the young scientist across from him. There wasn't a trace of hostility, lingering or otherwise, and all that anger and frustration that Dr. Carter had held in check while she stood in his office last night was gone, replaced by something else entirely. He wasn't too old to recognise a spark when he saw one.

No, this was not what he'd meant when he'd told them to sort it out, but he'd take whatever he could get right now.

.

* * *

He figured the confused look on his friend's face must have mirrored his own, and it made him feel not quite so out of it. But then he watched that look change from astonishment to realisation.

_"Lieutenant! Holysh - "_

The General's words of warning washed over him as he glanced around the table. And... yep. He was back to being on his own again.

.

* * *

This sand storm was making him antsy. As much as he was enjoying the time-out with the Abydos kids – _man, had they gotten big_ – he really just wanted to get out of here and find out what the hell was going on. If Jackson was right, if those... _aliens_ that had attacked the base hadn't come from here... well, then they had a pretty big problem, because it was looking more and more like there was more than one of those glowy-eyed little sh-

"Major Kawalsky," Carter said softly, interrupting his train of thought. His eyes flicked to hers and she raised her eyebrows at him, then pointedly looked down. He followed her gaze to her outstretched hand. _Ah_.

He reached for the shallow bowl she was offering him, the liquid within sloshing precariously as she leaned a little further forward until he had his fingers closed firmly around the lip. The action had pulled the cuff of her sleeve back, and it was hard not to notice the deep purple bruising dappled across the pale skin of her wrist. He found her eyes again, and the surprise he felt must have registered on his face because her eyes widened fractionally in response, and she dipped her head as she released the bowl. He didn't miss the glance she sent the Colonel's way, lightning fast and then darting off in another direction all together as if she didn't know where to look.

"Thanks, Carter," he said, pulling her attention back to him. He raised an eyebrow questioningly, and she pulled the cuff back over her wrist, her expression now inscrutable. He turned his gaze to Jack then.

Jack, on the other hand, was totally engrossed in his conversation with Skaara, and he felt the corner of his mouth curve into a smile – he knew how Skaara reminded Jack of his boy – before it pulled back down into a frown, because he suddenly remembered the bruise he'd spotted under the Colonel's chin during the briefing. He hadn't given it much further thought after General Hammond's reprimand, but as Jack tilted his head up in Skaara's direction, and Skaara left to go check on the status of the storm, he could see that it did look suspiciously like the kind of mark you'd get from a well planted defensive hit.

He felt his frown deepen. What were the chances of both the Colonel and Carter having fresh bruises?

He shook his head.

_Nah_.

Still... he had the overwhelming urge to get another look at Carter's hands...

.

* * *

Charlie caught his eye, nodding his head in Dr. Carter's direction, an odd expression on his face. He blinked, and looked over to where Colonel O'Neill and she sat next to each other, talking to Dr. Jackson about the possibility of there being another gate.

He shrugged; how the heck would he know if there was more than one gate?

.

* * *

Daniel hadn't known the man for very long – certainly not long enough that he should be able to claim to know him at all. But there was something about experiencing a life and death situation with someone that gave you an insight into who they _really_ were, and Jack O'Neill had been a man on the brink. He had left Abydos with his feet firmly back on solid ground, but in Daniel's estimation, he'd been far from healed.

The man now roaming the cavern was... different. There was something about him. Something... _hopeful_. Maybe it was because Daniel had spent his lifetime gleaning impossible amounts of information from the tiniest details that enabled him to read the subtle changes in Jack, or maybe it was just context, and the way the man's eyes followed the blonde doctor around the space with more than simple interest. There was something protective in his gaze, something soft. There was more, though; it wasn't at all like the way he looked at Skaara.

He knew Kawalsky saw it too.

"Jack," Dr. Carter said, glancing over her shoulder, excitement bubbling in her voice and bright eyes searching for one man only. "Jack, oh my god, this is incredible."

"I see it," Jack said – Daniel could even hear it in his voice.

Jack headed back over to stand next to him. "Have you translated any of this, Daniel?"

"Some," he said, finally pulling his gaze away from the doctor and letting it sweep over the room.

"And?" Jack said, letting his exasperation bleed through - it was nice to see some things didn't change.

"It's a map... I think."

"And you said earlier that we didn't have what we need to dial other Stargates," Dr. Carter said. "Which means that you think these are - "

"Stargates," he said, eyes back on her. "A vast network of Stargates. Yes."

At the sceptical look she threw him he moved forward to stand beside her, Jack following close behind.

"Care to explain, Daniel?" Jack said.

"Look," he continued, gesturing towards a section of wall just in front of her. "The glyphs are grouped, and each grouping contains seven symbols. Seven. And all of the symbols are on the Stargate in the chamber _here_. On Abydos."

Her eyebrows drew together questioningly and her eyes flicked over his shoulder - he knew - to the man still standing behind him, as some silent communication passed between them. "OK, Doctor Jackson - "

"Daniel, please," he said, and her lips quirked up in a smile.

"Daniel," she continued, the smile slipping and her voice turning earnest, "we tried _hundreds_ of permutations on the dialling program and we were never able to get another connection."

That gave him pause; he'd tried some of these addresses, but certainly not hundreds, and the chances of hundreds of Stargates being buried or inactive were slim. Dr. Carter blew out a sigh and turned back to the wall, raising a hand to it, and Daniel watched her absently trace one of the symbols. He got the impression that it was somehow a habit of hers.

There was an answer to this, though - he knew it. There had to be.

"Look, kids," Jack said, "aren't we getting a little off course here? All of this still begs the question of where our Ra lookalike came from."

Dr. Carter turned back towards Jack, eyes narrowed at first in a little glare and then widening when they snapped back to Daniel's. He felt his own eyes widen in response, and his mind raced as it chased after Jack's words; the idea behind them which had obviously caught the doctor's attention.

"Uh, right." He wagged a finger at her frenetically as he finally caught up. "They're off course!"

"I always knew I'd like you," she said, smile turning radiant.

"Oh, um, well..." he said, pursing his lips in bemusement. "But that's right isn't it, they've drifted?"

"It's the expanding universe model. Stellar drift," she added, glancing at Jack and then back to him. "If we use this map as a base, all we have to do is correct for Doppler's Shift and we should be able to start dialling other Stargates again as the adjustments are calculated."

Kawalsky sidled over to them then, coming to a stop next to Jack. "So what does that all mean, Doc?"

Daniel watched Dr. Carter swivel around to face the man, and he didn't miss the look that passed between her and Jack; more of that silent communication. There was worry there, though. It was subtle, but there. And what was more concerning was how well Jack seemed to read that look.

It was Jack who finally answered. "It means, I think, that the Stargate can go other places."

The silence that descended was tangible, and they all filed quietly back out of the cavern after Dr. Carter finished her recordings, each lost in their own thoughts. Daniel wasn't surprised at the revelation. He had always suspected; had always felt the truth of the idea of there being other Stargates. No, he was interested in a different truth. And as he watched Jack's fingers pass lightly across the small of Dr. Carter's back as he followed them out into the tunnel, he couldn't help but wonder at who this woman _really_ was, and if it was her who was responsible for the glimmer of hope he now saw in Jack's eyes.

.

* * *

"Jack, Ferretti needs medical attention." He could hear the doctor yelling over him, but her voice was strangely muffled. Maybe it was just that the close-quarters weapons fire had deafened him a little – he wasn't really sure. Everything felt strangely indistinct. The fingers on his neck as she cradled his head were nice though.

"Too many..." he mumbled to no one in particular, and the pressure on his neck tightened minutely.

He wasn't sure how much time passed before he saw the Colonel's face float into his line of vision, but there was some debate going on, and he absently wondered where Charlie was.

"He'll be OK, Sam."

He frowned, and the world started to spin and shift.

_Who the hell is Sam?_

.

* * *

"Daniel, for heaven's sake, you've had about two swigs of that beer," Jack said, dropping down onto the couch opposite him. "You're a cheaper date than my wife was."

_Was?_ "Yes, when _am_ I going to meet your wife?"

Jack suddenly looked... sad, his eyes dropping to the floor as he distractedly rolled his beer between his hands.

"Uh, yeah..." he finally managed. "Probably not gonna happen."

"Am I that hard to explain, Jack?" he said, trying to lighten the mood - a grin playing at the corner of his mouth.

Jack's eyes rose back up to meet his; there was nothing playful in the look he found there, and it was instantly sobering.

"She left."

For a moment, he let the weight of that statement hang in the air between them. He'd suspected as much, but that was not the same as hearing it. And clearly, it was something Jack was still struggling with.

"I'm sorry."

"Me too, Daniel."

They both took another pull from their bottles, sitting quietly for what seemed like a long time.

"So..." Daniel broke the silence first. "Where did you meet Doctor Carter?"

"_Daniel..._"

.

* * *

Teal'c watches the older one of the Tau'ri. He is clearly their leader, and there is a strength in his manner, an intelligence in his eyes as he observes those around him - especially as he watches the movements of the other Jaffa. The young one looks at him with the kind of adoration that Teal'c imagines that he once looked on his _own_ father with – a long, long time ago. He is too old now to remember clearly, and his father's memory is not _supposed_ to be an honourable one.

He sees the look that passes between this one and the woman as they hold back their friend in his distress; it is more than duty that binds them. These people care for one another.

More importantly, he realises, they would fight for one another.

And so it is with great regret that he watches the young one chosen from among them. They struggle, and he feels the crushing helplessness that he has endured more and more of late.

He wonders how much more he can stand.

"I can save these people! Help me!" The older one stands firm, the woman moving quickly to his side in support. "Help me."

Teal'c knows that this is the moment where _he_ must choose.

"Many have said that," he hears his own voice ring out through the room as if it was a grand stadium, and all eyes are upon him. He stares into the eyes of the man across from him, who looks so _sure_, and perhaps it is that both these people stand in unity before him that he knows his decision is finally made.

He spins, feeling the familiar weight of his weapon in his hands, and fires on his own Jaffa, sparing only a second to watch the smoke rise from their chests before he turns and throws it to the older Tau'ri.

"But you are the first I believe could do it!"

For the first time in a long time, Teal'c knows that he feels hope.

.

* * *

He shuffled the cards around in his hands, back to front and then front to back, waiting for Charlie to make his move. Charlie sat back further in his chair and propped his feet up on the edge of the infirmary bed. Louis watched the furrow between his friend's eyebrows deepen.

Charlie had a terrible poker face.

"Any time now, Kawalsky."

"What, have you got some place to be?"

Louis snorted, and started shuffling his cards again. He had the distinct feeling that he was forgetting something.

He looked across at his friend, who just tipped his chair further back. "Say, why did you call Doctor Carter 'Lieutenant' in the briefing?"

"Long story, Louis."

"What, do I look like I have some place to be?" he said, echoing back Charlie's own words.

Charlie smiled, but didn't look up from his cards.

"And who the heck is Sam?"

At that, his friend finally looked up at him and laughed. Leaning forward, he let his feet fall back to the floor with a thud – his cards now discarded on the table in front of him. Louis felt himself grimace; now they were never going to finish this game.

"Well, like the Colonel said..."

And as Louis listened, everything started to fall into place.

Well, _mostly_ everything.

He still didn't have the faintest idea why Charlie was going on about _bruises_...

.

* * *

_**A/N: I never believed that genius astrophysicist Sam, who has studied the gate for years, would never have contemplated the possibility of stellar drift. Hence my rewriting of their time in the cavern.**_

**_**Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of the Stargate franchise. All other characters mentioned in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.**_**


End file.
